


before nine

by bravestofheart



Series: after ten [2]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Smut, it was kinda PWP but now it's developing plot wooops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-03 19:09:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11538612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bravestofheart/pseuds/bravestofheart
Summary: Sequel to 'after ten'. She's getting her revenge - and it's so sweet.





	1. Chapter 1

He falls asleep well after her - but he doesn’t mind that she’s accidentally fallen asleep on his bed, sprawled out and snoring softly. He thinks she looks cute when she sleeps, anyway. Her expression has turned all soft, peaceful, all traces of stubbornness and bossiness has dissipated from her face. 

He wakes up to the sound of her footsteps thudding over his wooden floors, doors opening and shutting, the shower running, idly wondering if she’s making so much noise in an intentional effort to wind him up. He’s determined not to let her get the better of him, shoving a pillow over his head and rolling over, attempting sleep again. _Attempting_ being the key word.

“Morning,” he grumbles when she emerges, swamped in one of his shirts, damp hair wrapped up and bundled on her head neatly in a towel, looking impossibly chipper. _Morning people_. He thinks it’s a crime to be up before nine. Especially on a Saturday. He’s resigned himself to being awake now, however.

“Morning,” she answers, flashing him a smile, one that confirms his suspicion. He’s almost certain she’s being loud and, dear god, _enthusiastic_ on purpose. “I don’t even know your name, you know?”

“Uh- John. People call me the Doctor, though.”

“Are you a doctor?”

“No. Just a childhood nickname.”

“Okay then, the Doctor.” 

She flashes him that grin again, and he rolls his eyes in exasperation, biting back a laugh. “Just _Doctor_.”

“Okay, Just Doctor.”

Right. So he walked into that one, he’ll admit. Doesn’t stop him from letting out a loud grumble and throwing his pillow at her, expression only softening slightly when she giggles.

“So what’s your name?”

“Clara.”

“Well, thanks for dropping by, Clara,” he teases, voice dropping. He thinks he sees her eyes darken when he says her name - he makes a mental note to use that against her in the future.

Right now, however… he’s still half asleep and she certainly knows it; he’s unable to think fast enough to stop her taking control (and of course she does, she seems to have a knack for sensing his weakness). She’s climbing on top of him, bare legs straddling over him, her skin warm and smooth against his as she rolls her hips against him sensually, every movement deliberate, not quite _enough_.

His fingers reach out to brush against her thighs and he’s about to make a remark about how it’s a pity there’s a layer of fabric separating them when she’s gone, throwing him a devilish look over her shoulder as she practically _skips_ out the door, leaving him painfully hard and wanting.

Oh, he’ll be sure to wind her up tonight.


	2. Chapter 2

He begins his revenge plan late in the evening, plugging his guitar in and pushing the amp against the wall that connects their apartments, blaring out classic rock songs… and nothing happens. Oh, she would ignore him, wouldn’t she?

Ten minutes pass and he heads out his door, towing the amp behind him and setting it as close to her door as he can possibly make the cable reach, belting his way through a not so great rendition of Foreigner’s _I Want To Know What Love Is;_ but in his humble opinion, he thinks it’s a performance certainly worth watching.

_I wanna know what love is,  
I want you to show me— _

“Show you what?” There’s a soft snort of laughter, and he whirls around to see Clara behind him, leaning against the wall, groceries in hand as she watches him in amusement.

“Something like last night, of course,” he retorts - but it takes him a moment longer than it should to reply; it’s clear he’s fumbling, caught off guard. She just laughs, shaking her head and brushing past him.

“Down, boy.” She lets herself in, leaving the door open behind her and he follows her in, watching her a while before pacing the room, eventually stopping at her bookshelf, absently rifling through her books. He’s not sure what to do with himself; she’s busy putting groceries away and he hadn’t intended on timing things so poorly.

“Have you eaten?” she asks, the question followed by the clanging of pans as she disappears behind her counter, rummaging around before popping up again, holding up a frying pan triumphantly, a question in her eyes - _‘do you want to stay for dinner?’_

“Uh, yeah. I should go. Leave you to things.” He feels her eyes trail after him as he starts to leave, guitar slung precariously over his shoulder as he tows the amp out with him; he’s avoiding eye contact. He thinks he might’ve ruined things.

“Doctor?” she calls out, and he stops in his tracks, turning to face her again and _gods,_ she’s beautiful, eyes twinkling at him, lips curled up in a warm smile. He doesn’t understand how her face lights up like that (and oh, he hopes she doesn’t find out what that does to him; he’s sure he’ll endure endless taunts if she ever found out how much of a sap he can be).

“Yeah?”

“Come back in an hour, won’t you?"

— 

He’s pretty sure that time is taunting him - does it always move this slow? It’s not that he’s eager - because heaven knows, he’s been desperate for her since the moment he met her - rather, it’s sheer _impatience._ Time flies when you’re having fun, but when you’ve nothing to do but wait? Ah, he’s never been one for patience.

Slowly but surely, though, time passes and he soon finds himself at her door again, a soft smirk tugging at his lips when she answers.

“Evening, Clara.”

He’s got the upper hand this time, voice low, gaze fixed on her. Oh, his suspicions were right, he _definitely_ does something to her when he says her name like that. He can’t help his laugh as her lips part - it takes her a moment to manage a _‘hello’_ in return, and an even longer moment to seemingly regain control over herself. He watches as she straightens her back, eyes narrowing ever so slightly as she steps back, finger crooking in invitation.

He stays put. And oh, there’s such a dangerous glint in her eye at that. She steps close, finger hooking around the collar of his shirt, tugging him into the room, and she’s so infuriatingly close, body _almost_ against his, and suddenly she’s back in control again.

So much for the upper hand.

“Always so bossy,” he teases, and she grins back, leaning up to kiss him, fingers winding in his hair.

“Oh, but you love it.” And he knows there’s no point denying that. “I wish you’d stayed before.”

“Ah, I would’ve driven you mad.”

“Maybe not.” There’s that grin again, mischievous and wicked. “Maybe I wanted to have fun.”

_Fuck._ He’d entertain her all day if she asked him. “Nothing stopping you now,” he points out, and she laughs, fingers curling around his - he notes how _tiny_ her hand is next to his - and he lets her pull him towards her bedroom, grunting softly as she pushes him down beneath her, fingers roaming over his skin as she undresses him. He’s barely managed to undress her before she slips from his grasp again, though he doesn’t have time to complain; her mouth soon closes around him, and fuck, the look in her eyes as she takes him into her mouth drives him almost as wild as the feeling of her tongue massaging against the underside of his cock. 

His fingers curl into her hair gently; not too hard, for fear that she’ll stop if he start’s taking control - no, he doesn’t put it past her to taunt him mercilessly until he begs for her, and right now he _really_ doesn’t want her to stop. Oh, but she soon taunts him regardless, pulling back until she’s just barely sucking at his tip. She’s still gazing up at him, expression now turned to one of amusement. She’s touching herself now, rocking slightly and letting out small, blissful sounds - how _does_ she make him want her so bad? He’s never needed anyone as much as he needs her right now.

_“Clara,”_ he groans. “Fuck, you’re driving me insane.”

He watches as she pulls her lips away from him, crawling up to him, lips brushing his lightly. “Prove it."

And so he does, pinning her beneath him, and he kisses her like he needs to, like he can’t breathe without her, fingers moving against her and pressing into her until he can’t take it any longer. He doesn’t think she can either, judging by the way she’s whimpering and clutching to him. He pushes into her then, slow and deep, moving into her firmly, and she digs her nails into his back, making an insistent sound against his lips, followed by a satisfied moan as he moves harder - and oh, she’s wild tonight, lips parting as she cries out loudly, fingers clawing at his back. She kisses his jaw, his neck, burying her face against him and finding his pulse, sucking until he knows he’ll be bruised tomorrow. And when she releases, it’s hard and fast, and she’s biting down on his shoulder as she cries out, and _fuck,_ she’s beautiful. He wants so desperately to keep her, to lose himself in her and let himself fall - much longer and he thinks he’ll be unable to do this just for fun, to part ways the next morning and pretend like he’s not developing feelings for her.

She curls into his side, and he stays there for a long time, holding her, nose pressed against the top of her head, arms circled around her waist, her head tucked into the crook of his neck. His heart thumps wildly - and when his breathing slows, he can still feel it pounding in his chest. He’s anxious. And not good at this sort of thing.

“Hey Clara?”

“Mm?” She’s sleepy; and oh how he admires the way she blinks up at him, barely peeking out from beneath the blanket.

“Would you like more than this? To… be together?” It’s not much. But at least he’s managed a coherent sentence, despite the way his pulse has sped up again, despite the instinct that’s telling him to shut his mouth, to not risk ruining a good thing.

“I think I would,” she breathes, soft and sincere, and he feels himself relax in relief as she smiles up at him, easing the hesitation in his eyes and the fluttering in his heart - and tonight, everything seems right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooops this took me longer than planned, but it's done. Bit of a sappy ending for y'all because I'm a cheese~ 
> 
> This is the end of the series - for now, at least. I may revisit this in the future, but for now other plots are calling and I'm tryiiiing to not let myself start writing too many fics at once.
> 
> Anyway. Hope you all had as much fun reading this as I had writing it! Thanks for joining me~ <3

**Author's Note:**

> So part two happened, wooops. Enjoy :)


End file.
